


Before Dawn

by DogsWrite



Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Kidnapped, Marriage, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogsWrite/pseuds/DogsWrite
Summary: While on a tour with her fiancé, their party is ambushed and only Pocahontas is allowed to live through the slaughter. When word reaches Jamestown, a man she does not expect will risk everything to save the one he loves no matter the cost. Yet will his sacrifice be enough to save not just her life but her spirit?





	Before Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!   
> This story is also on fanfiction.net under the username SunRise19.  
> This is chapter 1 of 2 chapters. Chapter 2 is currently being written. The first chapter has a descriptive love making scene and some mention of violence. The second chapter will depict scenes of torture and a scene of a sexual assault. I'm trying to give as much warning as I can so as not to trigger anyone. Thank you for any comments, suggestions or ideas.   
> I do Not own the rights to the Pocahontas movies. Disney and history do.

After dawn.  
After dawn.  
After dawn.  
After dawn.  
Never had two words sounded so ominous in her life. Even after all she’d seen.  
After dawn.  
Never had words seemed so final.  
After dawn.  
Even when her father had given the same sentence it had not looked so bleak. The same exact verdict.  
Pocahontas did not know how that was possible, surely being condemned to death no matter how many times it would never be a pleasant experience.   
After dawn.  
The native woman briskly shook her head.  
“What is it?”   
Dark eyes snapped towards the voice before a sliver of sunlight shown on his figure, “I was thinking that no matter how many times one gets condemned to death it must not be pleasant.”   
She was amazed her words had come so clearly. Unhindered by tears or any emotion for her fellow captive.  
“This pronouncement was not so bad. They gave us a nice meal and the company… Well, it is certainly the best.”   
“Ha, I am sure you say that to all the ladies.”   
“I have never said it to one that I have been condemned with I assure you.”   
Her throat tight, she found herself unable to speak. She watched in awe as he began to slowly debone a piece of fresh fish. The fact that he of all people could stand the thought of food left her momentarily speechless.  
“You really should eat something.”   
Pocahontas knew she would scold him for telling her what to do. If it were not for the predicament they were facing and the concern in his voice she would have.   
“Perhaps it is poisoned,” Pocahontas chirped as she took another piece of fish.   
They ate in silence, the only noise being the outside insects, chewing and the murmurs of the people that seemed so far away. One glance out the whole in the top of their prison confirmed that sundown was fast approaching them.  
The native loathed the silence.  
Silence caused her to think. The quiet made her remember.  
It made her think back to when this was going to be a simple tour throughout her homeland with her fiancé. The quiet made her recall the horse riding and easy conversation that had past between her, John Rolfe and the small escort of Powhatan warriors that’d accompanied them.  
Until they had come out of the trees into a wide open clearing.  
That was when Pocahontas would force her mind to halt.  
As she swallowed her piece of fish however, unwanted images assaulted her mind.  
How the lead warrior been run through with a spear.  
John Rolfe’s horse getting shot by a badly aimed arrow. The beast dropping so fast Rolfe hadn’t time to dismount. The resulting fall crushing his right leg.  
The horror stricken screams that followed. The blood and yells of the wounded and dying men. The way the attackers had tied John Rolfe to a tree and Pocahontas knowing all to well what was to happen next. It was in that moment bile threatened to spill over and it was only by the spirit’s power she was not sick.  
“Do not! Do not thrash about! No struggling! No! Spirits, no! No!”   
She gazed transfixed as a dying warrior from their party rose, slit open Rolfe’s abdomen as an act of mercy and collapsed to the ground. He panted once, twice for air as red colored his lips and he slumped heavily against his ropes.  
They still killed and destroyed everyone around them. Until all were soaked in blood and everyone was silent.  
“We have plans for you.”  
She learned much later that it was the chief who’d spoken though Pocahontas had lost track of time hours beforehand. They shoved her between four guards, each moving and pushing her about until a stern look from the leader forced them to allow her the freedom to walk upright.  
The predawn light shown down from the canopy of leaves above when they had finally reached their destination. Her feet ached as they had not rested and her throat was dry for no water had been given whilst everyone else had been allowed to drink. She had been roughly shoved in to the prisoner’s hut and had only been allowed to leave due to the kindness of one of the chief’s wives. She had walked with her to the river, allowing her to take off her blood stained clothes. Though she had been given food and water upon her arrival, the cold river filled her with joy. Even though the water was shockingly cold it revitalized her mind as the other woman handed her a fresh garment.   
That was every other morning. She supposed it was how she kept track of the days. Thus far she counted two trips to the river’s edge.  
The guard would change every few hours, food would be given and no words would be said. No indication of her fate and no reason were certain as to the slaughter of her traveling party. Those days she spent speculating, going over everything her father had taught her, softly chanting the mourning songs for her people and praying for any type of plan to come to her.   
Nothing happened. Nothing changed.  
Until that very morning.  
Until they had violently thrown a man in to the same prison hut where she was being held. It would be those frantic moments, the rush of summer air and the thud of a body hitting the ground only to be pulled upright that would change everything. All would be answered in such a short time that when the talking stopped she could hardly breathe.  
“Stand up!”   
The leader, Askook commanded whilst he grabbed her by the hair in order to pull Pocahontas up from her half crouch. It was only that moment she was grateful for the hold he had for dark brown eyes met sky blue ones from across the hut.   
Askook begun whilst pointing at Captain John Smith, “You are a very stupid man. You may have fought well when you killed three of my warriors however you will live just long enough to regret it.”   
Smith shrugged as if having a casual conversation, “Three has always been a good number for me. Anyhow, you have me to do as you wish so you can let the young lady go.”   
Eyes wide Pocahontas ventured a question, “You, you are here because of me?”   
It earned her a slap, her neck twisting painfully to one side.   
Askook continued as if nothing had happened, “After we are done with you we will have a wedding ceremony. After I mount her she will be mine. It is the law around here.”   
The look of astonished terror must have been visible on her face for Askook laughed.   
“What of negotiations?”   
Pocahontas asked as in one swift motion Askook had lifted her feet from the floor by her hair so that she was forced to look at him.   
“You do not speak lest spoken to or you are required to answer a question. Secondly, oh favored daughter of Great Powhatan, you are assuming that there are talks about you. I am not planning any.”   
Eyes widened in shock, “This is war? War with my father and the settlers of Jamestown?”   
The hit was aimed at her chest this time, a scream of pain burst from her before she could stop it. Askook had let go of her hair so that the momentum of his hit sent her skidding across the ground and crashing at John Smith’s feet. She gasped at the impact, her head smacking into his lower leg.  
“Leave her be! Let her alone! You made your point by killing John Rolfe and the men from Powhatan’s tribe. You, you do not need her.”   
The leader casually walked over towards the men that were roughly holding Smith upwards, “Have you searched him?”   
“Yes Chief Askook,” one of them replied, “We took his boots and other clothing. We left the thin shirt and.-“   
“You confiscated all of his weapons?”   
“Yes, we got everything.”   
In one swift motion Askook had knelt and grabbed Pocahontas by the shoulders, “Smith is correct, I do not need you. I desire you. However, I have other matters I must attend to before tomorrow. You be a good little Powhatan’s girl.”   
John Smith spoke his tone thick with venom, “Men that hit and mistreat women only do so for they know they cannot satisfy them.”  
One of the men holding Smith struck him hard across the face, “You will not say such things about our leader.”   
“The truth can be difficult to hear,” John quipped.  
“Let him speak,” Askook said without getting up, “He will be screaming in no time at all. A sound I will enjoy greatly.”   
The native woman watched as he suddenly rose dusting his hands on his mantle, “I have always been curious as to why Powhatan favors you so much. Even though he has many different children by many different women. I wonder, did you offer yourself to him at a young age?”   
“You vile disgusting.-“   
“I was not speaking to you John Smith.”   
“You vile disgusting,” Pocahontas started as Askook laughed whilst heading towards the door.   
“I am done with these two and will see them tomorrow morning. I am not an unreasonable man so I will have one of my wives bring you food and water.”   
In that instant all the men were gone, securing the hut and leaving them alone. Pocahontas blinked as Smith knelt, gently lifting her up so that she stood on her feet.  
“Are you alright?”   
The sudden feel of his hands on her shoulders and the concern in his voice left her unable to bring her thoughts together. The man she thought she would never see again, the one who was supposed to be on his ship miles away was instead here. She found herself momentarily stunned by the revelation.  
“Are you alright?”   
Smith repeated as he let go of her and let his hands fall to his sides.  
“Yes, yes I am fine. Never mind me we must get you out of here.”   
Her words came in a rush, “I will demand to speak with Askook or one of his men. Perhaps his wife the one who takes me to the river she.-“   
“She will be able to do nothing. Pocahontas, please it is alright.”   
She paced whilst glancing out the hole in the top of the hut, “They are going to kill you at sunrise! It is not like the last time when I could talk to my father. I will not allow I will not just sit and do nothing! I will demand I will absolutely insist that your death be halted until negotiations.-“   
He interrupted her, “Hush! I will not sit around and watch you get beaten. I will not do that. That is exactly what he will do.”   
“You should not even be here! What are you doing? Are you crazy?”   
“Hush,” John said as he looked out the top of the hut. The only sight being the guards that walked around the structure thirty or so feet away.   
“Your father along with his men and some soldiers from Jamestown will be here soon. Most likely some time tomorrow or the next day.”   
She threw up her hands, “Some time tomorrow? It could, it could be too late.”  
“When you and John Rolfe had not arrived at the next village they sent a search party to look for you. They found the bodies I assume later that day. I was in Jamestown when news reached us about what they had found the day before.”   
Pocahontas pressed her lips together, “Those men, they were good. They were good men. J-John Rolfe, John Rolfe was a good man. None of them deserved that.”   
A moment of silence fell, “I know.”   
“I will miss Lon,” John continued whilst Pocahontas nodded, “Ben is devastated. Though he is ill with fever he still asserts he should have gone.”   
It was that moment a woman swiftly entered the hut, placing down the fresh fish, bread and water.  
“Miss,” Pocahontas had started yet the woman shook her head and left.  
Now here the two of them were, eating fish and bread as if it was supposed to be a normal evening. As if tomorrow was not hanging above them like a bolder ready to fall off a cliff.  
“Go on,” John said as their hands had reached for the jar of water at the same time. Pocahontas shook her head, pushing the jar in Smith’s direction.  
“You need it more than I do,” she stated as he pushed it back towards her.  
“Do not pity me,” he snapped.  
“Take it,” she said as she tried to place the jar into his hand. Damp fingers brushed against her own, her trying to ignore the warmth in the simple touch.   
“This fish could use more seasoning,” he commented as he moved the clay jar out of reach.  
It took her a moment to register what he was saying. Her dark eyes stared blankly for a moment before Pocahontas incredulously shook her head.  
‘The man is facing death and he’s complaining about the flavor of his final meal?’  
“More seasoning, you want more seasoning?”   
John Smith nodded, “What do you think?”   
Pocahontas placed another bite of fish in her mouth before answering, “I think, I think you are a fool.”   
Smith arched an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”  
Disbelieving dark eyes stared across at his calm blue orbs. Though she admired his courage, a bigger part of her was seething at his nonchalant attitude.   
“Do you not realize,” the native woman began as she savagely ripped off a chunk of bread, “Do you not realize that these people are going to kill you tomorrow morning at sunrise?”   
“I am aware…-“   
“You are aware… You are aware… What the hell does that mean? This is not some walk down a street in London we are talking about! This is your life! This is your life! Your blood will soak the ground and you do not care! You do not care! You care for nothing! Nothing! No one you do not care!”   
In a flash she was on her feet, crossing the small space that separated them. Before she fully comprehended her actions, Pocahontas grabbed the collar of his already torn shirt.  
“Just so you are aware,” she said her voice rife with mockery, “Chief Askook is not an honorable man! You will not get the quick death of bashing your head on a rock. They, they may decide decide…-“   
The fact she was openly shouting at him, yelling in his face was of no concern to the princess. She gasped once, then twice prior to the flood of tears cascading down her cheeks.   
“They may feed you to ants, burn you alive with one hot stone at a time, and take the skin off… I, you… You should not even be here! Why would you come alone? Alone? Did you not see what.-“   
“I saw everything,” John said whilst placing a hand over Pocahontas’s mouth, “Hush, I saw everything. I saw everyone and everything. I knew the risk. Your father sent men to follow me and I did not mind that.”   
“Staywiththem!”  
Pocahontas mumbled as John gazed at her, “I will take my hand away but you must stop yelling.”   
She tore herself away from him then, pacing the space around the two of them murmuring, “Foolish… Foolish…”   
John Smith stood, beads of sweat running down his face as he wiped a hand across his forehead.  
“We must have gotten separated somehow… Alright, I kept going. I kept moving to find you. I could not stop. I saw all they had done to those men… What they were or were not doing to you… I had to get to you.”   
“Why would you act so unwise?”  
John lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, “I needed to know if you were safe… I had to make certain you were still alive.”  
The native princess rubbed her face, trying to rid herself of the tears.   
“Well, now you have discerned my wellbeing.”  
John smiled, “I have and it is worth it.”   
“Stop it,” Pocahontas snapped, “You will not be saying that once your death method is announced.”   
Silence fell between them whilst Pocahontas paced, glancing out the hole of the prison hut. The sun was going down in earnest, the shadows getting longer and longer minute by minute. Faint voices could be heard in the distance and a bird called from the trees.  
“No matter what happens to me, I will always be with you forever.”   
“John.-“   
He met her eyes, “I meant those words then and I mean them now.”   
Swallowing hard, Pocahontas sat back on the single fur mat they had given her to sleep on. Smith tugged at his collar before asking, “Do you mind if I take this off? It is very warm in here.”   
The native nodded whilst her eyes went up towards the top of the hut. Closing them against the setting sun, she felt rather than saw a shadow sit in front of her.   
“I mean it Pocahontas,” he began softly; “I would come here again.”   
“It is for naught,” she replied folding her hands in her lap.  
“It is never nothing to see you.”   
“John Smith… You… Why… What… What are you…-“  
Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say. It was as if her mind was frozen, unable to comprehend what was fully happening. Panic lurked at the edge of her thoughts and she violently shook her head to clear her mind. His blue eyes sought hers again in the fading light, he praying that she would see the truth in his words. Reaching forward, Smith tugged one of her hands free from where it’d rested on her lap. Not expecting the contact, the native woman tensed yet she felt unable to pull away. It reminded her of when he had taught her how to shake hands and a tiny smile lit her countenance. His palm felt comforting, rough and warm next to hers.  
She shook his hand, “Do you remember when you taught me how to do that?”  
John Smith chuckled, “Yes, yes I remember.”  
A comfortable silence fell once more until a bird’s call sounded and Pocahontas finally looked away from his gaze. Her heart clenched as if being squeezed by an invisible hand and she suddenly wanted to look anywhere but his calm face.  
“I was eighteen when I thought I was going to die on a voyage. I had become so ill and I watched my good friend pass away.”   
“I am sorry,” she quietly said as she studied the roof.  
“I was fighting in a place and most if not all of the men had been wounded or killed. I remember lying on the battlefield, unsure of where I was at that moment until a kick in my side brought me round to see an enemy standing over what he must have thought was my dead body. I was in a bad way. They treated me until I was strong enough to march with them.”   
This time she met his eyes, “What happened then?”   
“They sold me as a slave.”  
Pocahontas cocked her head, “What did they do?”  
“They took me to a market and sold me. I was a gift to a man’s fiancé.”   
She could not keep her jaw from going slack for a moment before gasping, “What?”   
John cleared his throat, “I was a gift to this woman. She was not bad.”   
“You got to know her?”   
He nodded, “I was picking up words in Turkish all the time. We would talk and she wanted to know all about me. One day…-“  
His voice trailed off and Pocahontas found herself squeezing his hand in a silent way to encourage him to continue, “One day, she asked me to assist her getting ready. I objected, telling her that I thought one of her lady’s in waiting should but she… She was very persuasive. She had me bathe her and put oils on her body… I well…-”  
Noticing the dust of pink on his cheeks Pocahontas supplied his words for him, “This woman seduced you.”   
John nodded and then spoke, “I suppose in her own way I was her source of rebellion against her upcoming marriage. I am certain it was against her mother. Anyhow, when we first… She was no virgin like I thought. For my part I… I…”   
Pocahontas placed her free hand on top of his, “It is alright. I cannot say I have been in that situation but…”   
Her speech stopped her mind trying to halt her from asking a question. Pocahontas sighed as curiosity got the better of her, “Did, did you love her?”   
“I thought I did,” he replied, “Over time I realized that I loved her kindness. The way she would give me extra food, lessons in her language, how she would hang on my every word and action…”   
Pocahontas nodded, “How did you get away?”   
Smith gave a short laugh, “She wanted to marry me. She sent me to her brother who she said would teach me all I would need to know. He worked on a farm and as soon as I arrived he beat me and placed an iron ring around my neck.”   
Pocahontas visibly cringed, “That sounds horrible, I am sorry that happened to you. They call my people savages…”  
She said this last part to herself whilst Smith shrugged, “Your people are not savages and he got what was coming to him.”   
Pocahontas gave a tiny smile, “What did you do?”   
“He got careless, over confident while beating me and I were able to overpower and kill him. I took his clothes, horse and got the hell out of there. I wandered for days; I just chose a direction and set off. I’m not sure how many days it was later but this couple found me and helped me get my strength back.”   
Pocahontas raised an eyebrow, “A couple?”   
“Callamatta and her husband Ahbrahm,” Smith answered, “Callamatta was a good woman. She taught me much about herbs and medicines. Her husband was quiet a lot of the time, probably due to his wife chatting so much. They both were compassionate to me when I needed it most. Ahbrahm gave me some of his clothes and a little money.”   
Pocahontas grinned, pleasantly surprised at the kindness of total strangers. Especially when said strangers had found him with a ring around his neck.   
John Smith sighed, “I have always prayed that the good Lord would always bless them for how they treated me.”   
She nodded, “Yes, I agree with you.”   
The two of them sat in the quiet once more, the songs of the crickets and other night creatures filtering through the walls of the structure. The princess squeezed his hand before looking away. Swallowing hard, Pocahontas fought back the sudden crushing wave of sadness that threatened to overtake her. Her throat tight she found herself unable to speak for a few moments.  
Gathering her breath and trying to keep her voice calm she admonished, “You should not have come here. You should have arrived with my father’s men.”   
John shifted closer whilst patting her hand, “I love you. I never stopped loving you. If or when I die tomorrow spending this.-“  
She sharply interrupted him, “No, no you cannot say that. There are things… No no no no!”   
Her tone grew in conviction as she spoke, “Do not John Smith… Do not love me. Do not love me. I will not… I will not stand for it.”   
Dumbfounded, John stared at her in disbelief, “You cannot tell me how to feel.”   
“You can’t, you should not suffer because of me.”   
The captain shook his head, “I tell you I love you and you say you will not stand for it.”  
Pocahontas did not reply to his statement as he inquired, “Do you love me?”  
Her head snapped up as she stared at him, “What did you say?”   
“Do you love me?”   
“What?”   
“I love you Pocahontas. Do you love me?”  
“John Smith I already told you that.-“   
“We are not discussing me. Do you, Pocahontas, love me? Tis a simple question.”   
Swallowing thickly her voice strained, “I can’t… I cannot love you. Please understand that I cannot feel the same way. I cannot love you.”   
It was Smith’s turn to cock his head as he inquired, “Why not?”   
The captain waited.  
Waited for an answer. Waited as her eyes slowly turned up to meet his blue orbs. Lingered his gaze whilst she pressed her lips together and shook her head. He watched as she straightened her back, opened and then shut her mouth, freed her hand so she could run it through her ebony hair.  
“I am not going anywhere,” Smith said as he held one of her hands in both of his. Her hand cool and smooth between his.  
“You are not going anywhere,” she began, “You are not going anywhere because of me. For this whole tour was my idea. I helped plan it all, the villages we would visit, the gifts we brought and the speeches we would say. It is my fault that…”   
“Pocahontas, no it is.-“   
“Yes, it is! John Rolfe, our escort party and you… You will… You may… It is my doing! It will be so horrible! Horrible! H… For you…-“   
She choked on a sob as she snatched her hand away from his in order to cover her face. She pulled away as Smith reached towards her, the woman violently shaking her head.   
“I,” she swallowed and then murmured so soft the man could hardly hear, “I did not love John Rolfe.”   
She flinched as if she had been struck. Smith sat back, watching as she bit her bottom lip.  
“This trip was to announce my engagement to a man who I did not love but who I was certain our marriage would keep my people safe and I knew… I knew he meant well… I knew he meant well… I just, I never loved him and he is dead… dead cause…-“   
She stopped speaking, her shallow breath coming out fast whilst fresh tears ran down her face, “I am so sorry… I am so very sorry… Sorry… I hope they will all forgive me… Please, spirits please, John Smith please I beg you to forgive me. I am so sorry… I am sorry I…-“   
“This is not your fault,” he began his hand reaching and cupping her chin. He slowly raised her head and gently grasped one of her hands in order to uncover her face.  
“Look at me,” he commanded as one dark eye blinked open, “None of this is your fault. Do you hear me? None of these killings, actions or what may or will happen tomorrow is your doing. Pocahontas, trust me. Trust me love… None of this is your fault.”  
“No… No matter what you say I am certain that if I had not thought up this foolish tour.-“   
He leaned closer towards her. So much so that she became acutely aware of his breath on her cheek and the feel of her own heart as she shook her head.  
“Trust me love I am certain they would have found another way to incite war,” John Smith uttered before he gently kissed her.  
Stunned by the sudden contact of his lips on hers, Pocahontas could do nothing but sit still as a deer when trying not to be spotted. Over and over again he kissed her, his mouth warm yet firm as he deepened the kiss. Her dark eyes widened as he explored her mouth, she gasping as he savored her bottom lip prior to kissing her again. His hand stroked her soft cheek, and the princess found herself leaning into his tender touch. He squeezed her hand, bringing it up towards his mouth and kissing the back of it before placing it on his bare shoulder.  
It seemed to break the trance she was in for as soon as her skin touched his she tensed and turned her head away.  
“No, this, this is not fair… Not fair at all.”   
“What is it?” Smith inquired as he still held her face in the palm of his hand.  
The native princess took a breath before answering, “I do love you John Smith. My love for you never stopped. Even after five years. I prayed to the spirits… I thought you had forgotten me. Now you will be killed-k…-”   
A smile as bright as the noonday sun lit his face as he fully embraced her around the shoulders, “You love me? You love me? I never forgot you. I never did. Pocahontas hell, I never could forget you. I let you go with Rolfe I just wanted your happiness. That is all I have ever wanted.”   
“Yes, but.-“  
“Nothing else matters.-“   
“How can you say that?” Pocahontas demanded as she tried to pull away from his hold. Finding that her attempt was futile she settled on narrowing her eyes.  
Smith laughed, “You love me. You love me and if I can gaze at your face while these people do whatever it is they will do to me I will be a happy man. Of course, I do not wish to die but… I am certain you…“   
He stopped talking, leaving Pocahontas speechless as he kissed her again.  
“Will you marry me?”   
Her jaw dropped, “What?”   
“Will you marry me? Be my wife Pocahontas.”   
“What? How?”   
“Do you not?-“   
“Of course I love you but you are not making sense. Why, why, why are you saying this? Why bring up something that may never be?”   
‘Why torment me?’ she thought as she pressed her lips together.  
After a moment of silence John Smith spoke, “You taught me to always hope. You taught me to look beyond what I see. You showed me that. From the mother bear to her cubs, the trees and plants… You taught me…-“   
John Smith forcefully swallowed the lump in his throat as he gasped, “You you God always… I thought, I thought I had seen and known everything. I was so wrong…”   
They were openly crying now. Seemingly of their own accord Pocahontas’s arms clutched him to her as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She could feel his heartbeat, and she marveled how it felt just as erratic as her own. Tears soaked her ebony tresses, he clinging to her like the lifeline she was to his sanity. Her nails dug into his back, her body shaking against his. In that moment she sobbed purely for what was in her arms, for the fate that awaited him and for what would never come to pass.   
“Marry me,” he whispered in her ear she being unable to breathe, “Be mine…”   
“Yes.-“   
A beat of silence followed, “Yes, what?”   
“I will marry you… I am yours. I want to be… I want… I need I need…”   
Her breath hitched, she trying to swallow and yet the tears came ever faster. John Smith sighed, his body slumping against her in relief as he kissed her ear.   
“Thank you,” he voiced his tone thick with emotion, “I love you, thank you for everything.”   
“Stop… Stop time… Just… Stop.”   
She grasped him to her, the captain wiping her eyes with the back of his hand. She did the same, softly touching his forehead against hers whilst removing his tears. He slowly sat up, bringing her with him as he stood.  
“Stay here,” he whispered as he crossed the hut to retrieve the water jar. Rubbing her eyes she blinked as he approached her carrying his shirt. She watched as he dipped a corner of the material in the water jar prior to washing her face. Despite everything Pocahontas softly smiled, a slight shiver made her look up in surprise as a bead of water trailed down her neck. Her eyes met his whilst he dried her face and Pocahontas took the shirt from him and repeated his actions. Long slow strokes down his cheeks and over the bruise the warrior had given him. Rising up on her toes, Pocahontas gently kissed said bruise before continuing to clean his face.   
“How would we marry in your tribe?”  
John Smith asked as she continued washing his face, “We would set up an altar to our Great Spirit. We would hold hands as the elders would bless our union and… They would wish us many children prior to us holding hands. The chief or…”   
She choked back a sob, “My father and perhaps others that are close friends of his would join our hands. He would bless us before breaking a long string of beads over our heads and then we would be considered wed. Everyone would cheer and all would dance.”   
“Sounds like we would have a big party after that, right?” John Smith inquired as he grinned.  
Amused she nodded, “Yes, a big feast. How about your wedding ceremony?”  
He shrugged, “How would I know? I have never gotten married.”  
“John Smith,” Pocahontas chuckled, “Stop teasing.”   
“Do not spoil my fun,” he laughed as she swatted the shirt at him.  
“Well,” his face turned serious again, “We would meet at the church. We would stand and say the marriage vows in front of the minister as well as our friends and family. The minister would ask who giveth this woman to be married to this man? They would join our hands and the minister inquires of the man if he will take her as his wife… There is more to that and then he asks the woman basically the same vows and both of them must repeat the words in front of everyone. Then the husband…”   
He stopped and lowered his head. This caused Pocahontas to bring the damp shirt against his neck and Smith gasped at the coolness of the water and her tender touch.  
“The husband… The husband would give his bride a ring. The ring symbolizes unity. The ring is a token that shows all that she is married.”   
“I understand,” she softly spoke as he wrapped her in his arms. The native dropped the shirt as she stepped fully into his embrace.  
“We do not have any beads,” John started as he pulled slightly away to look at her, “Where, what happened to your mother’s necklace?”   
The woman straightened as she closed her eyes. Though she tried, the princess could not stop the few slow tears that made their way down her face. Her hand went to her neck, only to come away empty.  
“They… They took it. I think… I think they may have burned her necklace.”  
“Damn bastard,” John swore as he wiped her tears with his thumb, “I love you.”   
“I love you too.”  
He gradually released her, walking over towards the wall of the hut.   
“What are you doing?”   
Pocahontas inquired as Smith knelt and pulled a few things from the dirt. She watched as he carefully closed his hand before walking back.  
“In my quarters at Jamestown I have a desk. Thomas has the key to the bottom drawer. In that drawer is a little bit of money and a small box with a ring in it. It was my mother’s marriage ring when she wed my father. She told me when I was young that I should give this token of love to a woman I feel is worthy. The other drawers have letters and books.”  
“J-John Smith please… Stop talking we have to get you.-“   
He cut her off, “Listen, listen to me. Please, I have to get this out. I have a flat in London. I don’t have much but if you ever go back to London you know it is there. Thomas can give you that information.”   
“I do not think I would go back to London unless I had.-“   
“Unless it is required of you… I know love. I have a sister-in-law that was married to my brother. She loved him so much she refused to marry after his death. It was fortunate that their children were able to begin apprenticeships. Those names are also in that desk.”   
She could feel herself trembling long before she slumped against him.  
“I cannot lose you again,” she whispered.  
“Marry me,” was his only reply as she eased herself from his embrace and went to stand on his left side.  
“Would you marry me even if this… What may happen… Are you certain?”   
Pocahontas could not help stumbling over her words whilst looking at him. His eyes seemed to reflect the sky itself as he smiled down at her.  
“Yes, I would marry you and yes I am certain. More sure of this than anything I have ever done.”  
She allowed a genuine smile to bloom on her lips, “I love you and I want to be your wife.”   
John Smith grinned, “We are here to marry ourselves in front of my God and her Great Spirit.”   
He opened his hand to reveal two long pieces of grass. Turning to her and fully meeting her eyes he spoke with all the love and sincerity he could, “Pocahontas, I promise to love, cherish, protect and comfort you all of my days. I will forsake all others and love only you. Will you have me as your husband for as long as we both shall live?”   
She automatically responded, “I will.”   
John sighed and smiled, “that is a relief. Now, it is your turn. You can just say what comes to mind.”   
She paused for a moment, “Well, I am unsure where to start… I love you and want to be your wife. I know I do not deserve your love after all I have put you through.”   
She stopped clearing her throat she pushing back tears, “I am honored that you would choose me. I promise… I promise to love, comfort and be there for you always. Will you have me for your wife for as long as we both shall live?”   
Pocahontas inquired; using the same question he had asked her wanting to honor his tradition.   
“I will,” John Smith answered as he squeezed her hand.   
“Pocahontas,” he took her left hand into his, “Will you take this piece of grass to symbolize our love and unity? Will you then ask Thomas for the key to the bottom drawer and wear the ring I would have given you?”   
She laughed as a few treacherous tears escaped, “Yes, I will.”   
She watched as he tied the piece of grass around the fourth finger of her left hand. He smiled as they embraced, John cementing the moment with a lingering kiss to her mouth.  
“Now, what would your wedding blessing or words be like?”   
It was then she started to sing, her soft clear voice singing her favorite wedding song. It was to this rhythm they danced, forgetting the world. The couple leaving behind the circumstances that brought them to this moment. Though he only knew some of her language, he could pick up words such as one and spirit. Even as the notes began to fade they held one another, swaying to the music as if it were playing in front of them. He placed an arm around her waist as they moved, she humming the song’s tune as they danced around the hut. It was he that picked up the pace, moving until they were twirling on the floor. Pocahontas laughed as he bent her backwards, placing a searing kiss to her mouth before standing up.   
“Now,” they stopped in the middle of the shelter, “Let us join our hands and we can break the grass together with the other one.”   
“Together,” she breathed as she kissed his shoulder.  
“Together,” he repeated as they each took opposite ends of the grass and pulled.  
Uncaring if they were heard John Smith cheered, followed by his wife. She spun around the hut in joy before going over towards the half eaten bread.  
“Here is to the only good thing they have given us,” Pocahontas said as they each took one half and yanked it apart.  
John nodded whilst Pocahontas admired her grass ring. They drank some water before dancing another slow dance. John Smith gazed at his bride, her dark hair flowing and her brown eyes staring up at him as they moved. He softly kissed her, embracing her tighter as they danced. Smiling against his lips she ran a hand through his hair prior to putting her arm around his neck. They stood still, kissing ever more deeply as Smith’s arm tightened. Pocahontas tensed, pulling slightly away.   
“Wait, I mean… I never thought this would happen… Wait…”   
How fast the day was going. How quickly day had turned into night. If this was going to be the only moments in time that they would share, Pocahontas wanted to make it memorable.   
She wanted to make it special.  
She wanted to make it last.  
Quickly turning out of his arms she approached the single sleeping mat. Picking it up with both hands, Pocahontas shook out the fur.  
“Hold on,” John said as he kicked some little stones that had gotten under the mat.   
“I just thought of it,” the native began as she hugged him close, “In my village the women would have made our sleeping place very nice with flowers and sweet smelling herbs. There would be fresh soft furs and the people would leave us alone for a few days.”   
John grinned, “We also have something similar. It is called a honeymoon.”   
Pocahontas smiled as her gaze landed on the hole in the top of the roof. She visibly flinched, her dark brown eyes going wide.  
“Spirits,” she breathed as her body went rigid in Smith’s arms, “Look! The moon is showing her face. The sun is completely gone and.-“   
Her mind raced, staring wide-eyed at the endless dark sky above them.  
“Stop,” John commanded as he caught her gaze, “From now on you do not look outside. It does not matter. You look at me. Pocahontas, look at me. You, you keep your beautiful eyes on me and just let go.”   
Swallowing hard, “I cannot… I… Moon and tomorrow. How can you expect me to overlook the sunrise?-“   
“Pocahontas,” he said her name with more authority, “Look at me and just let go. Look at me. It is just me and you. Let me make love to you. Let me hold and caress your body. Nothing else matters other than how we feel.”   
“I cannot… The moon and sunrise will.-“   
“Hush my love,” Smith whispered at her ear, “Do you trust me?”   
“Of course.-“   
“Let me love you.”   
The native sniffed as she wiped her eyes, “I will only if you let me love you in return.”   
“Deal,” he said as he kissed her. She gently took his hand, leading him over towards the sleeping mat. A smile bloomed on her lips as they lay on the fur. The native princess could not help as a girlish giggle escaped her lips.  
“I forgot my dress,” she said as her hands went to undo the laces at the back.  
John stopped her, “Easy love. We will get to that.”   
The captain lay beside her, pulling her close as his leg went over hers. Running his fingers through her raven like hair, he moaned softly as she pressed forward against him. Over and over he kissed her, nibbling on her bottom lip as she arched her neck. Her husband did not disappoint, drawing his mouth towards the exposed flesh of her neck. He clung to her body, his arms going around her in a strong grip. His hands making an unhurried path down her back and hips, the soft material of her dress doing little to hide the smooth skin it covered. He leisurely kissed and nipped at her, only to speed up before slowing once more. The woman gasped as his lips made contact with her collarbone, Pocahontas’s hands moving up and down his back only circling to do the same on his chest. His moans encouraged her as he knelt beside her form, his hands smoothing down the front of her dress. He cupped her breast through the material, making her gasp so that he could deepen the kiss. He made his way down her neck again, kissing her forehead, cheeks, and mouth and followed the outline of her jaw as he nibbled and sucked on the place where her neck and jaw met. Her body arched as his mouth followed the path of his hands, heat pooling in her center as she gripped his arms. He kissed her through the material, the woman finding it increasingly hard to breathe. She was warm, her skin flush as she said his name. She watched through half lidded eyes as he suddenly lay beneath her, his hands moving from her thighs to her waist up along her body as he took the garment with him. Realizing that she was straddling his legs, a blush covered her cheeks as she explored his torso. Never in her life had she known a man so intimately and she knew she would never desire anyone like she wanted him. She smiled as he gasped, her tongue making slow circles on his skin. She quietly laughed whilst gently nipping him and Smith noted her beautiful smile as she softly kissed the place where he had gotten shot saving her father’s life. He shivered at her touch, whispering her name as his hips moved upwards. John smith watched in fascination as her hand went to his trousers, leaving no doubt as to his desire.   
Together they divested each other of their clothing, the two of them finally being able to feel skin on skin. He pressed her down against the fur, smiling as she moaned.   
“I take it you like that?”   
He whispered his voice thick with desire, “I love it.”   
He repeated the action, moaning in delight at the sensation of her ample breasts pressed hard against his chest. He settled on top of her, the only sound in the room being there labored breathing. He explored her body, spending time on the spots he was quickly learning she enjoyed.   
“More,” she whispered as he eagerly suckled her breasts, “Pl-Please… More…”   
He licked the tip of one breast whilst shifting against her, “What is it love? Tell me what you want.”   
“I,” she could hardly speak as she cried out, “More… Mark me… Mark me with your passion. I, I need it… I need you…”   
He met her eyes his heart quickening when he saw the hunger in their depths. There was no fear or hesitation as he gazed at her.  
“Love,” he gasped for air as she held him close her nails digging into his shoulders, “Love… I…”   
She arched her body and smiled as it elicited a ragged cry from the man above her, “Please… I want…”   
He tried to pull away in order to look at her however she plunged her hand into his golden hair, feeling the softness as she brought his head down and fiercely kissed him.   
“Not yet,” John Smith managed to say in between kisses, “We have all night darling. We have all night for that.”   
He moved away, Pocahontas crying out in protest at the loss of his warmth. She did not have to wait long as his hand reached the apex of her thigh, his fingers dancing across her slick flesh until they found her center. A strained intake of breath was heard as her head fell back against the fur. With one hand on her center, the other on her breast and his mouth on its companion Pocahontas writhed beneath her husband. Her eyes closed to nothing but the sensations she was feeling. His touch started as slowed and controlled, she instinctively moving with the pace he set. Her body was building towards something, a release she only imagined as her legs tightened around smith’s hand along with yelling his name. It was as if she was diving off a waterfall, flying through the air as she completely gave herself to his touch. When it was over she breathed, feeling as if her heart would beat right out of her chest. John Smith lay beside her, watching as her tan face was flushed and her eyes full of desire. He gathered her towards him; kissing her swollen lips whilst her free hand that was not in his hair snaked between them.   
“Teach me,” she uttered whilst fiercely kissing his neck, nipping the skin before smoothing her tongue over the spot.  
“N-Nothing to teach,” he said his voice hoarse with longing.   
He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent of earth and water. Her natural essence was intoxicating, and as her hand moved faster John Smith gritted his teeth in order to keep control. Her touch was grasping and tender as he threw back his head in pleasure. She being all he ever desired and like no one he’d ever lain beside. John Smith closed his eyes, the heat between them growing unbearable. He suddenly growled as he kissed her, the captain grabbing her wrist off of him as he rolled his wife onto her back.   
Immediately his hands went to her thighs, a hurried succession of searing kisses moving from her lips, down her body, over her upper legs before finally touching her center. He moved closer, if such a thing was possible as Pocahontas stopped her scream of pleasure with her hand over her mouth. She grasped his golden hair, panting and twisting in utter delight beneath his ministrations. In that moment she forgot to be sad, forgot how this came about and forgot to breathe as he moaned against her. The fur bunched beneath her as she twisted this way and that, her nails digging into the nape of Smith’s neck as he kissed her.  
“Please,” she cried closing her eyes, “John Smith please make love…”  
“Look at me,” he growled in her ear as her luminous eyes opened and gazed up at the man she would always love. The one who she never stopped loving. There was a quick stab of pain when he entered her, yet the blood in her veins was pounding so fiercely, he going still and whispering to her words that she could not comprehend their meaning that the discomfort soon faded. His worn hands buried in her hair, Pocahontas grasping his hips and moving against him. Thus they began the dance as old as time, moving to their beating hearts. Over and over they kissed, her mouth clamping on his as he cried out in blissful release. He crashed against her like an ocean wave, her legs wrapping securely around him as he trembled above her.  
They shut the world out that night, discovering, kissing, laughing and loving all through it.  
“Where did you learn that?”   
Pocahontas would ask as he disengaged her right leg from his left shoulder.  
The captain would remark at some point in time, “That way was nice, but I like it better when I can see your face.”   
“Just let go,” he would whisper as she experienced her lover again and again.  
They would lightly doze, allowing their bodies a rest before continuing to make love. They lazily talked her head on his chest or his cheek on her breast.   
Nothing mattered.  
Not the time.  
Not how many times they coupled.   
There was no consequence for the marks of passion they left on one another.  
Not the pride and utter delight Pocahontas felt when she was able to make her husband lose total control with her actions.  
Nothing was of great importance.  
The couple was not disturbed.  
Not a thing startled them.  
Not the hour.  
Or the sound of the wind.  
None of the people in the village.  
Not the soft gradual light of a sunrise filtering through the hole at the top of their prison hut.


End file.
